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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/oceanwavesinlyriOOscha 



OCEAN WAYES 



I N 



LYRIC STRAINS, 



A REaUIEM; AID OTHER POEMS. 



THE HERMIT OF ST. EIRENE. 

" yVhi/ should mortals seek 
Emotions to conceal, 
As if to be revealed were xcorse 
Than imcardly to feel?- ''^ 



PITTSBURGH, PA. 
PUBLISHED BY W. S. HAVEN, COR. MARKET AND SECOND STS. 

^ 1850. 



~m 



-e^ 



-1^ > . 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in tlio year 185G, by 

W. S. HAVEN, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Western District of 

Pennsylvania. 



TO 

MY FRIEND, 

P^LIZABETH OAKES SMITH 

IS KKSl'ECTFULLY AND AKI'ECTIONATP^L Y 

INSCRIBED. 



PREFACE. 



In bringing this little volume of Poems before the public, the 
author deems it necessary to state that they are not the effusions of 
an enthusiastic youth, but of a man who stands at the zenith of 
life. 

Independent of all religious sects and denominations into which \ 
the Christian Church is divided, independent of all philosophical / 
and theological isms of the day, he hails the Church of the Future — 
the Church of the Johannic Age — the aesthetic Church of Peace \ 
and Love, as the one which is to absorb the contending elements of I 
Peter and Paul. 

It is of little importance to the reader, to know, whether the 
effusions contained in this volume, belong to the subjective or 
objective school, provided the circumstances and actions described, 
be not inconsistent with the aim the author had in view. 

It is, perhaps, not out of place to state, that the author, being a 
Swiss by birth, and having received his education on the other side 
of the Atlantic, does not write in his mother tongue. At the age 
of twenty-eight, he was yet unacquainted with the language in 
which these Poems are written : 

But now, above his own, he loves the English tongue; 
His harp he cannot tune, except to English song. 

Pittsburgh, 1856. 



CONTENTS 



I. Ocean Waves in Lyric Strains — A Requiem — at the 

Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. 

1. Darkness, 9 

2. Twilight, 12 

3. Light, 15 

4. Consolina, IG 

5. Rome and Geneva, 18 

6. The Vision, 20 

II. The Alpine Horn to the American Harp. 

1 . Excelsior, 30 

2. Athanatopsis, 3)^ 

3. The Priestess of the Beautiful, :]G 

ITT. Hymn of Praise of the Crusaders, 80 

IV. A Voice for the Fallen, 42 

V. An Ode to Woman, 45 

VT. Revenge, 4S 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

VIT. An Ode to Solitude, • 50 

VIII. Irenion, in Search of Peace. — A Seautopsis, 51 

IX. Alone! 84 

X. To THE Hermit op St. Eirene — By Eulalie, 85 

XI. The Hermit's Answer to Eulalie, 86 



OCEAN WAYES. 



A EEaUIEM. 

AT THE MIDNIGHT MASS ON CHRISTMAS EVE. 

I. 
DARKNESS. 

. . . *' Venture to unmask 
Man's heart, and view the Hell that's there." 

Byron. 

The night is cold and gloomy ; 

The northwind's icy sway, 

From garden, field and meadow, 

Hath swept the green away ; 

And nature, deeply mourning, 

Is covered with a shroud; 

The sky appears in darkness, 

Veiled in an endless cloud. 
Still darker than the sky, there is within my soul 

A hue of gloom ohscuring every thought. 
The Star of Hope is set. — The world, from pole to pole, 

Hath not the home my heart in vain hath sought. 
The Past hath but regrets, — the Present but despair. 
And Future's golden dreams! . . . . 

2 (9) 



10 OCEAN WAVES. 

Alas ! tliey were so fair, 
So beauteous once ! My heart, my soul was filled with bliss, 
With Faith, with Hope, with Love ! . . . 

But why recall all this 
From memory's silent land? Enough! It is no more 

That Love or Hope can cheer anew my heart. 
Nay, nay ! — Their siren voice shall not, as oft before, 

Enchant my ear again with treach'rous art. 
Away, away ! I will — it shall — it must be dark 
Around my soul ! — obscure as Hell without a spark 
Of fire would be. . .... 

'Tis sweet to muse at such an hour, 
To deem myself alone, — to wish, to long for power 
To curse and damn the world with its deceitful snares, 

To gnash my teeth in rage against my fate. 
And with satanic sneer defy the foe that dares 

To throw 'gainst me the gauntlet of his hate. 

Around me howls in fury 

The storm, o'er lake and wood; 

The leafless oaks are roaring 

As if, in angry mood, 

Tlieir Dryad were awakened 

From her lethargic sleep. 

To see the mighty billows 

Arising from the deep. 
Still wilder than the storm that roars o'er hills and waves, 
Within my gloomy soul a mournful tempest raves. 
The crushing weight of life yet longer to endure, 
r feel my courage lost. .... 

Hope can no more allure 



A REQUIEM. 11 

The mariner whose ship is dashed against the rock, 
And in dismay he sinks beneath the wave. 

J|S * * * * * 

Oh Death ! Thou silent friend, that thou wouldst gently 

knock 

At my own door, to call me to the grav« ! 
That thou wouldst come and lead the weary wand'rer 

home! 

This joyless, desert world, through which I have to roam, 

Hath naught but grief, and pang, and bitterness for me, 

And in despair I deem : 'tis better not to he! 

****** 

In vain ! ]N"o Death will come to free me from this life ; 

It visits him that doth not call for rest. 
What ails my soul ? "Why not compel it to arrive ? — 

How would it be ? — Perhaps it might be best — 
This night is cold — why not? — I may lie down to sleep 
And see no morn return. — There is no eye to weep 
The homeless stranger's fate. — And Death itself — they say, 
Is but an endless sleep that takes all pangs away. 

They say : there is no future 

Beyond the grave to gain. 

That Hell is a delusion 

Come from a priestly brain ; 

The dead are gone forever; 

I^one hath till now returned 

From yonder silent regions. 

The grave till yet hath spurned 
To answer for its victims. — Oh ! if it were so, 

What madness then to live and grieve and pine ? 
Lie down to sleep to wake no more ! There ends thy woe. 



12 OCEAN WAVES. 

Oh world ! . . . . . . 

Begone ! I will, oh Death ! be thine. 

****** 

'Tis near the midnight hour — the time for silent muse. 
The storm seems by degrees its wrath and roar to lose. 
The wind now drives the clouds beyond horizon's bound. 
The stars again appear — and nature all around 
Seems willing soon herself to solemn rest to still, 

And Peace upon my snowy death-bed spread. 
Now, lo ! — The hour is near, — I feel an icy chill 

Pass through my veins, — my limbs, like heavy lead, 
Melt down into the ground, — my sight at once grows dim, 
And earth, and sky, and stars, and all begin to swim 
Confused before my drowsy eyes — now — all is dark — 
'T is done ! . . Oh world ! . . fare . . . well . . my soul . . . 



II. 

TWILIGHT. 

Hark! 
Methinks I hear . . what's this? . . Where rings that 

doleful knell? 
'Tis . . nay ! . . and yet it must be, yea! the parting bell. 
Did I not deem my listening sense was lost and gone 

Oh no ! . . . 'T'ls Christmas Eve 

Oh God ! What have I done? 
Arise! the bells are ringing 
In deep and solemn sound. 
They call to pray'r and worship 
The pious all around. 



A REQUIEM. 13 

The Midnight Mass commences; 

Its grand majestic rites 

Give praise to the Eternal; 

The Holy One invites 

The faithful to His feast — and they in trembling awe 

And adoration sink before his throne. 

It is the night — they say — in which the shepherds saw 

The Angel who announced what God had done 

To save a fallen race from everlasting woe. 

****** 

Oh, blest are they that can, in this life here below. 
Believe with simple heart, with Faith and Hope unmoved, 
This grand and thrilling tale by which, they say, is proved 
That there exists a God — a life beyond the grave ! 
But why should I then cease in this my trust to have ? 
Where is that Faith that once was shining in my soul? 
Where is that Hope, that Love ? — Hath then despair the 

whole 
Religion's strength and influence crushed? — There was a 

time 

In which my heart with feelings of delight 
And heavenly rapture thrilled. — I thought it was a crime 

To test or doubt the truth of Heaven's right 
To doom a soul to Hell s endless damnatmi s woe. 
I deemed 'twas God's own plan. Geneva taught me so.* 
And with obedient mind I said that God is Love 
In damning souls by millions, . . 

Lo ! am I to rove, 

* The Author was formerly a student at the Oratoire, in Geneva. 



14 OCEAN WAVES. 

Here, with the skeptic, sneering 

On blasphemy's awful ground, 

Whilst yet within my hearing 

The distant bells resound ? 

Perplexing contradictions 

That agitate my mind, 

"Will you to doubt and madness 

My soul forever bind ? 
I must — I will arise — those solemn sounds recall 

From memory's depths, the first, the happy dream 
Of Love and bliss. Alas ! The Midnight Mass is all 

That yet, on my dark soul, may cast a beam 
Of Hope. The Midnight Mass ?— What is it then to thee ? 
Wert thou not taught in it a heathen rite to see ? 
Hast thou, unfaithful son, Geneva's tenets spurned? 
To Eome— to hateful Rome— thy heart and spirit turned? 

Nay! 

. . There was a time when youth and Hope were cheering 
With charming rapturous dreams my loving heart. 
An angel's gentle voice, in loveliness endearing 
Existence, life — then would to me impart 
Celestial bliss. — All nature, tinged in rosy hue. 
Appeared to my enchanted eyes; — the Heavens blue. 
The meadow's fragrant green, the flower's sweet perfume, 
The warbling bird, the murmuring brook, would all assume 
The Bweet, delightful charm which Love alone bestows 
On all the wealth of Earth's ephem'ral joys. 



A REQUIEM. 15 

III. 

LIGHT. 

Oh Love ! Eternal stream that through the Heaven flows, 
What hliss within thy depths the soul enjoys! 
If Heaven is existing, 
In Heaven must he Love, 
A tie that links forever 
Departed souls above, — 
If there be life eternal 
Beyond the silent grave — 
If truth be in believing 
That God sent — men to save — 

His only Son into this world Oh then, confused 

In dust I sink before His holy throne. 
This mystery of Love which I in blasphemy abused, 
Adoring with amaze. — Oh then, Despair, 

. begone! 
But what is this ? — It must be true. My heart begins 
Again to thrill. The consciousness of all my sins. 
The guilty thought of self-destruction's woeful crime, 
The darkness of my soul is swept away. The time 
Of Faith and Hope returns. . . Oh God ! my God, forgive 
The madness of my thoughts! I feel Thou art, 
I feel that Thou art Love — that by Thy Love I live. 

Thy Peace again descends, into my heart. 
The storm hath ceased. My soul, serene as yonder sky. 
Is tranquil now. The clouds of gloom and sadness fly 
Away and sink beneath oblivion's silent waves. 
My thoughts are freed from chains in which despair as slaves 



16 OCEAN WAVES. 

Had bound them to perdition's sinking wreck. 

. But here- 

I have arrived. — The temple's sacred walls are near. 

Oh solemn awe ! My soul is overwhelmed with fear. 

A holy shivering thrills in all my veins. — I hear 
The organ's lofty accents, 
The trumpet's mighty sound, 
Announce to all creation, 
That Peace for man is found. 
Hark ! now a thousand voices 
Are shouting from below: 
GLORIA IN EXCELSIS, 
ET GLORIA DEO ! 



IV. 
COJSTSOLIlSrA. 

"Requiem a3ternam dona illae!" 

What long and weary years have lapsed since first I heard 

Those holy anthems swell, on Christmas night, 
In Milan's lofty dome. My mind was then unstirred 

By gloomy thoughts. Within me all was light 
And Peace and Love. A virgin's — no ! an angel's eye, 
With tender glances, watched o'er all my steps. A tie 
Of true and pure affection bound her soul to mine, 
And all our thoughts, and words and feelings would combine 
In accords sweet as those of yon ^olian lyre. 

That gently linger on its whispering strings. 
When touched by evening's breeze. A pure and holy fire 

Was burning in our hearts, and on the wings 



A REQUIEM. 17 

Of high ideal Love our raptured souls would rise 

To spheres ethereal, where earthly passion dies. 

* * * * * 

She was so fair, so tender, lovely, full of Love, 

Her thoughts so pure, as if angelic minds 
Had formed them first for her, — they were so far ahove 

The vain pursuits that one so often finds 
In woman's dreams. The world, with all its gilt and charm, 
Its heartless sneers, she thought, were but the soul to harm. 

Her dark and lonely bowers 

Of roses and jasmin, 

Her lovely, fragrant flowers, 

Her tender mandolin. 

Her dreams and songs and prayers, 

Her father's love and care. 

The silent chapel's altar, — 

Were all the world to her. 
Oh, what delight with her through orange groves to roam. 

To hear her silver voice, to breathe the air 
In which she lived, to see her reign within a home 

Where all appeared to watch with loving care 
Her steps, her words, her smiles, the glances of her eye, 
And would her least demands with rivalry obey ! 
Methought I lived within a fairy island's bounds, 

Or that my feet had reached Elysium's happy grounds. 

* * * * . * 

One night — 'twas Christmas Eve— we went to Milan's dome. 
Her hopes were mine ; still raised within the church of Rome 
To worship God in forms which I was taught to spurn, 
She loved the mystic rites, which called her thoughts to turn 
Towards the lofty Home of which her soul would dream. 



18 OCEAN WAVES. 

I cared not for her ritee. Her God was Love, 
And Love was mine, — and from her eyes the heavenljbeam 

Of that eternal sun which is above 
The one, tliat gives to worlds its light and cheering rays — 
"Would fall on me — and then her voice in loving lays 

Would melt away, and make my heart with rapture thrill. 

* * * - * * 

Methinks — though years have gone — I hear them linger- 
ing still, 

In yonder old cathedral, 

The marble pillars stand 

As lofty palms, whose branches 

Appear to form a grand 

Majestic vault, — with arches 

In clouds of incense lost. 

Methought I heard the voices 

Of Heaven's mighty host 
Resound in hymns of praise to God's eternal love. 

>i: * * * * 

In silence there she knelt within the shade 
Of one exalted column, — t ' wards Heaven above 

Her eyes were cast, and though my faith forbade 
To bend my knees before a Roman altar's shrine, — 
A voice within my soul pronounced her rites — divine. 



V. 

ROME AND GENEVA. 

I always deemed (icneva's curse on art severe. 

It banislied grand embodied thoughts, which I revere, 

From all the temples built on Calvin's stern design, 



A REQUIEM. 19 

And on their naked walls you even miss the sign 
Of Christ's redeeming grace — the emblematic Cross, 
The mighty sign that brought the heathen gods to toss 
And fall. ...... 

Immortal symbol of triumphant Love, 
Oh Cross! What wondrous deeds hast thou 
performed ! 
Archangels, saints, and all that dwell with God above 

Exalt in hymns thy vict'ries. Thou hast stormed 
And ground to worthless dust the adamantine walls 
Of man's own selfishness, — and through thy power falls 
That Self-God wrought by vain conceit and cunning art. 
That pantheistic snake that twists around the heart 
Of blind deluded dreamers — 

Is crushed to death by thee. 

* * * * 

Why then should Christ's disciples 
E«fuse the Cross to see 
Within His holy temples, 
The Cross that made them free ? — 
Oh Rome ! I cannot hate thee, 
For yet thou tellest me 
That Christ is God, Redeemer, — man's eternal Hope ! 

'Tis true I will not kneel before thy shrines. Thy Pope 
Is not my priest, my Lord, the ruler of my soul. 
The haughty Vatican shall not my will control. 
Geneva ! thou my Alma Mater, shalt not see 

Thy son forsake his faith of former days. 
I love thee still, Geneva, — 'tis alone to tliee 

I owe my freedom. Priestly craft that sways 



20 OCEAN WAVES. 

The minds of millions now, no longer dares to rule 

My own aspiring thoughts, that first, within thy school, 

Began to free themselves from human bond and chain, 

And through thy teachings all, I pioneered to gain 

A road to be my own, — and then to stand 

Unveiled, unmasked, unyoked, unbound against the foe. 

To crush and bruise his vile and fiendish hand 

That dares to foul the purest virgin's brow — and throw 

A selfish, poisoned, hell-brewed froth upon Religion'i 

name. 

Ye sneaking hypocrites ! that ceaselessly proclaim 

The tenets of your Lord in damning all who dare 

To think and march without your dry and scanty fare : 

Ye narrow hearted forgers 

Of God's own Holy Word, — 

Ye fanatic deceivers, 

That with the stake, the sword, 

"Will preach my God's Evangel — 

Depart! 

Accursed race ! 

Of Heaven's wrath ye're bearing 

The stigma on your face ! 
****** 



VI. 

THE VISION. 
CURSE NOT! . . . . . 

Who's this? . . What words are whispered 
to my ear? 
Eternal God! . . . My Guardian Angel's voice I hear. 
I sec her clothed in white celestial robe appear. 



A REQUIEM. 21 

I feel her hand placed gently on my brow. She* s here 
With me alone — yea ! her departed soul is near, 

Embodied in ethereal form that vies 
With her angelic beauty while below yet here 

On earth she lived. And now before my eyes 
The crowd, the temple with its pillars swim, and all 
Around me vanish, shadow-like, and seem to fall 
Beneath the ground. ..... 

Her seraph form, transfigured, shines 
In Heaven's glory. Now — behold ! her face inclines 
Towards my own. Meseems I feel an angel's kiss 
That makes my essence thrill with holy awe and bliss 
To mortal hearts unknown. .... 

'T was thus on Christmas Eve, 

When leaving Milan's dome, she promised me, 
To come each year within the temple's walls, — to leave 

The Silent Land, — if Death should ever be 
Her fate before 'twere mine. . . . . 

Alas ! she is no more. 
Her soul hath gone to Heaven's distant, peaceful shore. 

ZfL «|C ?fC «)C 3|C 3|C 

But silence ! no ! . . . 

She 's leaning 
Here gently on my heart. 
Her fairy hand is pressing 
My own. She doth impart 
To me in hallowed breathings 
The air of life divine. 
Oh hush! 

Her voice in whispers 
Her thoughts to me consign : 



22 OCEAN WAVES. 



Do thou not curse 
Within the halls 
Of Faith and Peace, 
Where vengeance falls, 
Whence pray'rs arise 
Towards the throne 
Of God on high, 
Who dwells alone 
In souls that love 

And pardon grant. 

* * * 

For there ahove, 
In Heaven's land, 
The Life is Love, 
And Love is all 

The air we hreathe. 

* * * 

Beloved soul ! 
That still beneath, 
On earth must dwell — 
K thou wilt roana 
And live with me. 
Within the Home 
Prepared for thee, 
' Midst Saints above, 
Then here below 
Do naught but — love 
Thy friend — thy foe ! 



Let hatred, strife, 



A REQUIEM. 23 

Be cast away ! 

Celestial Life 

Obeys the sway 

Of Ilim who orave 

Himself to foes — 

And from the grave 

Triumphant rose. 

And now He reigns, 

And evermore 

Will all the Saints 

Above adore 

In Him their God, 

Jehovah's Son, 

Who through His blood 

Hath Pardon won 

For all their sins. 

* * * 

Beloved one! 
A Life begins 
That ever flows, 
When Heaven's Sun 
Its rays bestows 
Upon thy soul. 
The Sun of Love 
Eevealeth all 
That there above, 
In Life divine, 
Is hidden still 
To mortal eyes. 
Wilt thou fulfill 
Thy Saviour's law? — 



24 OCEAN WAVES. 

Oh ! then, let Love 

Dispel the awe 

Of fearing — God — 

Thy Judge to see ! 

FOR LOYE WILL GOD 

FOliEVER BE. 
Gently dawns the morning yonder, 

Through the windows stained in gold. 
Soon again from me asunder, 

Thou wilt live — but hear, behold 
Where in future thou shalt wander, 

Through this life on earth below; 
Listen, dear — no longer squander 
Strength on human teachings, no! 

Let Him alone 

Thy Master be. 

Whose loving tone 

Resounds to thee 

In tender, sweet. 

Melodious lay ! 

Do thou entreat 

Thy Saviour, — pray 

That he may Life 

To thee impart. 

The hidden Life 

Within thy heart! 

And like a child 

Approach Ilis throne ! 

He's loving, mild, 

To him alone 

Who Cometh near 



/ 



A REQUIEM. 25 

His mercy seat, 
With childly fear 
His hand to meet, 

For sole support. 

* * * 

In all distress. 
Do thou resort 
To Him ! — Confess 
Thy failings all. 
Thy weakness too, 
Thy sins withal 
To Him that through 
His pang and throe. 
With tender call 
To cast thy woe. 
Thy burdened soul 
On Him alone — 
Inviteth thee ! 
Let gloom begone. 
Let sadness flee, 
Let Peace serene 
Within thee dwell ! 
I shall — unseen — 
To guard thee well 
Thy angel be. 
My whispers will 
Unveil to thee, 
What hidden still 
In Heaven's life, 
Is there to see. 
Wilt thou revive, 



2H OCEAN WAVES. 

Refresh thy soul 

In waters pure ? 

Wilt thou be whole? 

Oh then — secure 

My loving hand 

To lead thy own 

Towards the land 

Of Peace alone ! 
Peaceful zephyrs there will never 

Cease to whisper hymns of Love. 
Flowers bloom, exhale forever 

Sweet perfume within the grove, 
Where Immortals sing their praises, 

Where their glorious anthems swell, 
Where contention never rises. 

Peace and Love forever dwell. 

Beloved mine ! 

Wilt thou enjoy 

This Peace divine? 

Oh then — employ 

Thy strength to gain 

Immortal souls 

For yonder reign, 

Where Love inthralls 

The selfish wild 

And hating heart. 
* * * 

Be gentle, mild ! 
AVith Love impart 
Thy Saviour's will! 
Give wounded hearts 



A REQUIEM. 27 

The balm to still 
Their pains — that darts 
Of grief — remorse, 
Have planted there ! 
Do thou enforce 
Thy brethren, here 
On earth below. 
Who preach the Word — 
To go and throw 
Aside the sword 
Of selfish strife ! 
For there above, 
No soul will thrive 
Without that Love 

That giveth Life. 

* * * 

The Church on high 
Is all alive ; 
^o dogmas dry, 
IN'o splitting points. 
Are there discussed 
Amongst ^he Saints, 
And selfish dust 

Is swept away. 

* * * 

The Church of forms 
Will soon decay, 
The Church of Faith 
Will yield the way, 
The Church of Love 
Alone shall sway — 



28 OCEAN WAVES. 

The faithful soul, 
The faithful heart. 

Shall Love control. 

* * * 

I must depart. 
Beloved — dear, 
Be cheerful now ! 
Receive yet here, 
On this thy brow, 
Thine angel's kiss ! 
Thy soul shall swell 

With holy bliss. 

♦ * * 

ITow — fare thee well ! 

****** 

She' s gone ! — I see her soar on yonder sunbeam, while 

Along with her, ministering angels glide. 
But lo ! They turn their eyes on me — they gently smile. 

In sainted halo shines my heavenly bride. 
And now — a sudden flash — a lightning opens wide 
The skies. — The sun, the stars — they roll away and hide 
Themselves before my eyes. 

Oh, glorious sight ! Behold 
The city of my God — with brilliant gates of gold ! 
The Seventh Heaven shows its splendor, and reveals 

To me its mysteries. Now my heart does swell 
With high aspiring tender Love, and feels 

As if evolving from its deepest cell, 
In clouds of incense were, — a thousand offerings pure 
Towards the throne on high, — to Him, who to secure 
Eternal Life to me, hath suffered on the Cross, 



A REQUIEM. 29 

And snatched away my soul from everlasting loss. 

:)« * 5|« :|c * * 

Oh Christ, Redeemer, God ! I sink before Thy throne 
In tears ; to Thee, to Thee — I owe my Life alone. 

^ ^ ^ ^ ?]C «]C 

My thoughts — at last — like waves now splash against the 

shore, 
But whisper still : My God is Love forevermore. 



THE ALPINE HORN 



TO 



THE ^MERIC_A.N^ HiS.Rt>, 



EXCELSIOR! 

Inscribtb to Jcnrg ^absfeorl^ 'SoriQitiiobs. 



Oh thou, Columbia'8 noble bard, 
Accept an Alpine youth's reward, 
That offers thee in English tongue 
Helvetia's son who read thy song: 

Excelsior ! 

Oh thanks ! To thee he owes the word. 
That oft in sadness would afford 
Relief to him, whom thou hast shown 
To sing in Albion's strains his own : 

Excelsior ! 



EXCELSIOR. 31 

A wand'ring youth that longed for rest 
And inward Peace, a soul oppressed 
By gloom, despair, would often hear 
A mystic sound, thy hallowed cheer : 

Excelsior! 



He heard a voice, an inward call, 
Amidst the deaf 'ning roar of all 
The world's enjoyments, pleasures vain, 
A voice repeat the sacred strain : 

Excelsior! 

To find its hidden sense, he went 
Thro' years of toil and lahor — spent — 
Alas ! in vain in human lore. 
The voice, it whispered evermore ; 

Excelsior! 



He sought in Love that Earth bestows, 
In beauty's eye where passion glows, 
In tender links, by friendship tied, 
In vain, — the voice forever cried : 

Excelsior! 



He sought in books and systems deep, 
To find the fruit of Peace to reap. 
In human wisdom, learning's store, 
But still his soul was called to soar 

Excelsior. 



32 THE ALPINE HORN. 

He roamed 'midst nature's beauties all, 
On oceans, mountains, woods withal ; 
He dwelt on Alpine summits high, 
But still he heard a secret sigh : 

Excelsior ! 



On placid lakes, and brooks, and streams, 
He lulled himself to fairy dreams ; 
He heard where tranquil waters flow 
Again the strain in murmurs low: 

Excelsior ! 

And then he soared to yonder sky, 
To regions where the mortals fly. 
That pant for glory, laurels, fame. 
But still he heard a voice exclaim : 

Excelsior ! 



At last a spark of light divine 
Revealed to him the inward shrine. 
The temple where the Saints adore 
The God of Love, forevermore 

Excelsior! 



And there ho found the Peace he sought, 
The lofty truth that Jesus taught : 
That God is Love, and naught but Love, 
To man on earth, to Saint above. 

Excelsior. 



ATHANATOPSIS. 33 

II. 

ATHANATOPSIS. 

Instribeb to William €nlhn §iignnt. 



"Oh Land! Oh Land! 
For all the broken-hearted, 
The mildest herald by our fate allotted, 
Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand 
To lead us with a gentle hand 
Into the land of the great Departed, 

Into the silent land." 

Longfellow. 

For him that walks in sadness here below, 
Whose soul in vain for lasting rest hath sought 
Amidst the world's allurements, pleasures, joys, — 
For him that, broken-hearted, weeps the ones 
He loved, who sleep beneath the ground — oh say! — 
Hast thou no words of comfort more sublime 
And cheering, when "the' silent halls of Death," 
Before his inward eye present their dark 
And solemn — still mysterious vaults? Hast thou 
N'o other balm to heal his woes, than strains 
Which leave but dark, uncertain mist within 
The soul ? Hath man no other doom than once 
"To be a brother to the insensible rock?" 
Oh say ! In what is he to trust when Death 
Shall summon him "to join the caravan 
That moves to that mysterious realm where each 
Shall take his chamber?" How can he "approach 
The grave like one that wraps about himself 



34 THE ALPINE HORN. 

The drapery of his couch, and who lies down 
To pleasant dreams?" * 

Alas ! " The grave is deep 
And silent," t still an unknown land to him 
That never heard the sweet angelic tones — 
The heavenly melodies w^hich rise from depths 
Of rest, to linger through the shadowy groves 
Around the dwellings of the dead— the strains 
That call the outward eye to close, the soul 
To inward visions — glimpses into lands 
Celestial, where groves, and woods, and fields, 
With everlasting verdure clothed, exhale 
The air immortals breathe, and evermore 
The breeze of aromatic zephyrs sings 
The lays of Love undying. 

Grave — oh thou. 
Eternal gate of gardens beauteous, fair. 
Revealed to eyes that look beyond thy dark. 
Mysterious avenues, which lead to life 
That never ceaseth: thou, with cheering Hope, 
Dost still inspire the souls that long for Peace,— 
The souls that, rising far above the clouds 
Of earthly passions, seem alike the peaks 
Of Alpine chains, which look to skies serene, 
Whilst over plains and valleys still is spread 
A white, and cold, and misty ocean. 

Deatji : 
Oh peaceful Angel! thou that hast the keys 



♦Lines from Bryant's Pocin, " Thanatopsis." 

f From tho German of Siilis: ''Das Grab ist tie/ and stilh'." 



ATHANATOPSIS. 35 

To immortality's abodes, oh why 
Should man yet look with terror in thy face? 
Art thou a fiend to him that hopes to meet 
His own beloved ? Nay ! Thy gentle hand 
The faithful never dreads ; he knows that thou 
Wilt lead his steps to regions, where the ones 
That loved each other here on earth shall be 
United, nevermore to part. Oh bliss 
Unspeakable! There "no fate shall sever souls 
That nature destined for each other once," * 
And bitter tears no more shall fall on graves 
"Which separate the loving hearts. Oh there 
The life is Love eternal ; all is Love : 
The gushing spring, from which Immortals drink — 
The air they breathe — the food they live upon — 
The tender word they speak — the hymn they sing. 
Archangels stand before Elohim's throne. 
And Saints in high harmonious chorus praise 
His everlasting goodness, mercy. Love, 
In Christ revealed, the great Messiah. 

Man — 
Oh brother, come and raise, on wings of Faith, 
And Hope, and Love, thy soul to yonder halls. 
The vestibules of Peace eternal 1 There 
No Death shall frighten thee ; the grave appears 
No more the deep, unfathomed whirlpool wild. 
Whose fatal gulf will swallow all to loss. 
The grave to thee but gently opens wide 
The welcome portals of thy heavenly Home. 

* From Klopstock's Ode to Fanny. 



36 THE ALPINE HORN. 

III. 

THE PRIESTESS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

Instribeb to €U^abetfe ^nhts ^init^. 

In Beauty's holy temple stands 
^ A Priestess, noble, fair. 

The incense-flame of Love, her hands 

On sacred altars there, 
For years have stirred, and thus diffused 

Perfume — oh ! sweet and mild, 
Within a world to Love disused, 

A world of struggles wild. 

She tuned her harp to lofty lays — 

She sang of purest Love ; 
Her soul revealed the heavenly rays 

Of light, that from above 
Descends, to warm the human heart 

With sympathizing fire. 
That bids the selfish ice to part. 

And does with Love inspire. 

With Love for God and fellow-men, 

With Love for rich and poor. 
Her heart is ever glowing, when. 

Her sisters' woes to cure, 
She sings, in high celestial tone. 

The truth which few yet cheer: 
That man is not to snatch alone 

The fruit of Freedom here. 



i 



PRIESTESS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

She calls on woman's beauteous soul 

Of nobler things to dream, 
Than vain display and vogue's control, 

That fools alone esteem. 
She cheers her sisters all to take 

A high and lofty aim — 
At once from slumbers sloth to wake, 

And nobler boons to claim — 

Than those by man on her bestowed, 

To keep her like a toy — 
A slave of every apish mode — 

A slave — that must employ 
Her time in empty, foolish show. 

That in the soul destroys 
The high, enthusiastic glow 

For Beauty's hidden joys. 

Oh, woman ! Thousands bless thy name, 

For thou dost nobly try 
To call thy sisters from the shame 

Of slavery to fly. 
The heavenly life dost thou unveil, 

To mortals here below — 
A life of Love. — Oh, Priestess, hail ! 

To thee the lay we owe — 

A lay that shows what hidden stores 

Of bliss divine and joys. 
Will And the soul that Him adores ; 

Whose loving, tender voice 



38 THE ALPINE HORN. 

Is heard in peaceful, holy strains, 

In depths within the heart ; 
Its accents call to thrill the veins 

And heavenly Peace impart. 

Oh, Priestess, hail to thee ! Thy lay 

That sings the "Sinless Child," 
Shall never let thy fame decay ; 

Its accents, sweet and mild. 
Shall lull the weary souls to dreams 

Of innocence and love — 
Shall lead the soul to hidden streams 

That flow from Heaven above. 

Oh, Priestess, hail ! To thee I owe 

The flame of inward fire. 
That often now, with sacred glow, 

Will me to song inspire. 
The Beautiful — its magic shrine — 

Its temple's halls — to me 
Hast thou revealed ; a light divine 

I have received from thee. 

And now I bless the One that sent 

From Beauty's temple high, 
A Priestess fair, by whose descent 

My soul was freed — to fly 
Excelsior, to regions blest, 

Where all is Love and Peace — 
Where souls, refreshed in springs — ^the best — 

To live shall never cease. 



HYMN OF PMISE OF THE CRUSADERS, 

AFTER THE CONQUEST OF JERUSALEM, IN 1099. 



The battle is over, 

The trumpet — hushed, 

The cross — triumphant, 

The crescent — crushed. 
And Allah's name is heard no more, 
At break of day, from Salem's walls. 
In Zion they again adore 
The Holy One, whose praise of yore 
Was heard within its sacred halls. 

But say, Avho is the man, the mighty hero, 
Whose arm hath slain the Moslem's host; 
Who humbled first Mahomet's mighty warriors, 
And won the land the Church had lost? 

Hark ! There ten thousand voices 

Repeat the shout, the glee; 

Jerusalem rejoices, 

Jerusalem is free ! 

De Bouillon's sword hath won her. 



40 HYMN OF THE CRUSADERS. 

De Bouillon's praise we sing ; 

i)e Bouillon's arm hath conquered, 

De Bouillon be her king! 

Crusaders — come united, 

The holy grave to see ! 

Jerusalem, the city, 

Jerusalem is free ! 

Glory to God in the highest ! 
Glory to Jesus, his Son ! 
Hail to the Cross, the avenger ! 
Victory's praise it hath won. 
Hail to the Cross, the exalted 
Standard of legions, that swore 
Freedom to gain for the places, 
Where the Redeemer of yore 
Suffered, and died, and was buried, 
Whence He arose from the grave, 
Whence to the world His Evangel 
Went like the conquering wave, 
Throwing the heathenish idol 
Down from its tottering throne — 
Truth the Eternal proclaiming, 
God — is Jehovah alone ! 

From Gallia's shore De Bouillon came, 
To win the Christian hero's fame. 

To fight for Christian rights ; 
The laurel crown adorns his brow. 
The Virgin blest his sacred vow. 

In him the Church delights. 



HYMN OF THE CRUSADERS. 41 

The pilgrim now to come is safe, 
To visit our Redeemer's grave, 

And cross the temple's sill ; 
On sacred spots his eyes can dwell, 
His voice to glorious anthems swell, 

And pray on Zion's hill. 

Gloria in excelsis ! 

Hallelujahs let us sing, 
To God's eternal mercy! 

Jehovah is our king, 
Elohim, the Almighty, 

The God whom we adore. 
Whose name shall be exalted, 

And praised for evermore ! 

The tyrant now hath left the land ; 
INTo more his sacrilegious hand 

Shall touch the altar here ; 
i^o more the Moslem's bloody sword 
Shall guard the grave of Christ our Lord, 

The faithful keep in fear. 

The morning greets in Palestine, 
With golden hues the sacred shrine, 

Belov'd by Christians all. 
A gently whispering zephyr seems 
To lull the soul to heavenly dreams, 

Which peaceful bliss recall. 



42 A VOICE FOR THE FALLEN. 

Blest are the ones that have fallen 

Here in defense of the soil, 
Trodden hy Christ, His disciples, 

Once in the days of their toil. 
Happy the souls of the warriors 

Fallen on Palestine's ground! 
Peace and repose, the eternal, 

^ow and forever, they've found. 

Glory to God in the highest ! 

Praise to the One we adore ! 
Brothers and noble Crusaders, 

Join in the anthem of yore: 
*' Glory to God in the highest! " 

Peace to the earth and to man, 
Grace, the divine, the triumphant. 

Ever since ages began ! 



A VOICE FOR THE FALLEN 



A fragment from "Magdalkn, the Outcast." 



Alas! a woman's fall is never 

With mercy treated here below. 
From sisters, friends, she is to sever 

Herself, to weep alone her woe. 
Her heart may break; in vain her gushing, 

Repentant tears may ever flow; 
Her sisters all unite the crushing. 

Condemning stone on her to throw. 



A VOICE FOR THE FALLEN. 43 

I Tow long, my God, shall the world be despising 
^Phe woman that fell, whilst the man is yet rising — 

Unblushing with shame — 
His head in the crowd ? And the villain is greeted 
By young and by old, and perhaps he is seated 

' Midst women whose name 
Was never befouled by a scandalous passion ; 
Who, ever beneath the decorum of fashion, 

Are secretly frail. 
I know it, that thousands upon her are frowning, 
That thousands the garland of virtue is crowning, 

Whose life is a tale 
Of hidden corruption, of crime, tho' dissembling; 
They cast her away, the betrayed, that with trembling 

And penitent tone, 
Is craving for mercy. The outrage is crying 
To Heaven, that sees how the world, the belying, 

Will crush her alone — 
The one that hath fallen — a victim to sneaking 
And filthy entanglers — to reptiles yet seeking, 

But souls to destroy. 

Oh, curse on a world that is ever recoiling 
From helping the one that, degraded, is toiling 

To shun the decoy 
That hurls her to deeper and deeper depraving 
Corruption ! Oh, curse on the Church that from saving 

The fallen, disgraced. 
Is shrinking with haughty aversion — from lifting 
The woman that man, with his passion, was shifting 

To foulness abased ! 



44 A VOICE FOR THE FALLEN. 

Curse on the scribe and the preacher, 

Treating with snarling contempt, 
Her, the unfortunate creature, 

Helpless in all her attempt 
Ever to rise from her station — 

Ever forsaken — forlorn ! 
Where is the Gospel's salvation 

Preached to the heart that is torn — 

Torn by remorse and compunction. 

Torn by the fangs of its shame ? 
Have they forgotten their function, 

Those that the Gospel proclaim ? 
Where are the preachers so daring. 

Here to the fallen to stoop ? 
Where are the ones who should, caring 

Still for the lost that would group — 

Round them with eager attention. 

Wishing to hear of the Word — 
Where? * * * * 

* * In the halls of contention. 
Angry dispute and discord ; 

There on dogmatics debating, 
Fighting as wolves in the wood ; 

Damning each other and hating, 
Tliorc they c mpoison the food — 

Destined for souls that are wishing 
Life to preserve in their veins. 

Preachers, oh dare yc, not blushing, 
Cover religion with stains — 



AN ODE TO WOMAN. 45 

Poison, with hatred, the water 

Flowing from heavenly springs ? 
War by the Gospel ye rather 

Preach, than the Peace which it brings. 

Ever your Master betraying. 

Shunning His infinite Love, 
Ever his tenets belying. 

Dare ye to raise yet above 
Eyes that, with self-admiration. 

Dwell on your virtues — ^yoar own — 
Offering God, as oblation, 

Hearts to which Love is unknown ? 

Here, to the fallen, your Master 

Calls you, with thundering voice, 
Traitors, that dare yet to cast her 

Out from the Church of His choice ! 
Dare ye refuse, to repentance 

Pardon and mercy to grant? 
Christ ! Oh, Thy curse as their sentence, 

Ever their conscience shall haunt ! 



AN ODE TO WOMAN. 

0, sexo enca?itador ! sin cuya benefica influencia nuestra ninez no tendria 
socorros, ni nuestra juventud placeres, ni nuestra vejez consuelos. * 

From a Spanish Novel. 

To thee, creation's noblest boon, that God 
On man bestowed, my harp shall bring 

*0h, enchanting sex, without whose beneficent influence our childhood 
would have no assistance, our youth no pleasure, and our old age no comfort ! 



46 ANODETOWOMAN. 

Its humble off 'ring in a lay of praise, 
Of admiration, reverence and love. 

Oh, fairest thou, 
Oh woman ! What, without thy tender smile, 
The life of man would be ? A charmless one, 
Alike a path thro' dreary desert sands. 
In which no verdant flowry sights refresh 

The weary eye ; — 
Or like a torrent wild, that, gushing forth 
From dark and gloomy caves, with thund'ring roar 
Forever bids the gentle whisp'ring voice, 
Of zephyrs sweet, to hush ; or like the sky 

Forever veiled — 
In angry clouds that, roaring nature's curse 
Are threat'ning all with Death's destructive sway. 
Without thy sweet and lovely influence, man 
Becomes a heartless, selfish monster wild. 

Oh woman ! Thou 
With gentle voice dost bring the lion's wrath 
To naught, and like a docile lamb he comes 
To thee, and humbly listens to thy mild 
And loving accents, ever calling hearts 

To Peace and Love. 
Oh woman ! Ever shall my harp exalt 
And sing thy praise, proclaim thy sacred riglits, 
And call my brothers all to yield to thee 
And thy refining influence ; thou alone 

Wilt bring to Peace 
The wild contending elements that still 
Disgrace the world, the Church, religion's name ; 
And heavenly Love that God within thy soul 



AN ODE TO WOMAN. 4^ 

Implanted, once shall here on earth difFase 

Its fragrance pure ; 
And then, we all, as brothers, sisters will 
Enjoy celestial life. Oh, hail to thee, 
Oh day of Peace and Love ! When shall niy eye.s 
Behold thy glorious dawn ? How long, oh God ! 

Will selfish war 
And strife, the hell-born children, live and sway? 
**Thy kingdom come !" Arise, oh woman, hear 
The voice that calls in cheering tones thyself 
To stand against the tide of selfish rule I 

Thy station take. 
And fearlessly unfold the flag before 
The world, the banner bearing this device : 
" Oh, Peace on Earth shall dwell !" Oh, come implant 
The new Evangel's standard in the Church 

"Whose tott'ring walls 
Are threatened with destruction, ruin, decay ! 
Her sanctuaries have become the halls 
Of strife, contention, pestilence and Death. 
But thou, oh woman! canst restore to health, 

To life anew, 
To Peace and Love, the Church. Arise, arise. 
And let the beams of heavenly Love dispel 
The selfish mist that still obscures the Truth 
Of God ! My harp shall hail thy coming like 

The dawning day. 



4.S KEVENGE 



REVENGE. 

When low and vulgar malice casts its frowns 
On thee, and ridicule thy effort crowns, 
Oh then, beware — allow not passions wild 
To rise within thy soul ! Of God a child, 
Remember thou the word so sweet and mild : 

Forgive ! 

When envy, hatred, try thy voice to hush. 
And all the world unites thy heart to crush, 
Derision, scorn is cast upon thy tear ; 
When all around will laugh at thee and sneer, 
I^et not thy soul be overawed with fear ! 

Forgive ! 

When foes, with strains profane, thy thoughts belie. 
And wish to lure thy voice to wrath's reply, 
Allow thy heart not bitterness to feel — 
Let not the blazing flame of scorn it steel. 
Engrave the pardoning word upon thy seal. 

Forgive I 

When false betraying friends, like Judas, smile 
Before thy face, and will to snares beguile 
Thyself — and then in secret schemes contrive 
To injure thee, and cast upon thy life 
A shadow, trying anger to revive, 

Forgive ! 

I will Ibrgive. My foes, begone ! In vain 

\'onr sneers, and bitter words, and strains profane 



REVENGE. 49 

Have tried to stir the old satiric fire, 

That once with selfisli flame would me inspire, 

A gentle sound is ling'ring on my lyre : 

Forgive ! 

Oh, sweet Revenge ! My eye can shed a tear ; 
I need not blush of this — I do not fear 
The scoffing crowd, that play with sacred things. 
The wasps may try in me to plant their stings — 
A heavenly voice I hear, that ever sings: 

Forgive ! 

My harp is tuned no more for bitter lays — 
It shall no more recall of former days 
Sarcastic strains. My sole device is "Peace!" 
Its mission is not selfish pride to please. 
An inward voice to say doth never cease: 

Forgive ! 

Forgive ! Allow not vengeance thee to rule ; 
Against thy foes the arm of ridicule 
Do now not use, as oft thou didst before ! 
Forbearing Love shall dwell forevermore 
Within thy heart — if thou wilt God adore. 

Forgive ! 

Forgive and bear the Cross with patience mild! 
Endeavor thou to be of God a child ; 
And like the One that on the Cross, yet prayed 
For all His foes — for those that Him betrayed — 
To God His Father, blessing them. He said, 

Forgive ! 



50 AN ODE TO SOLITUDE. 



AN ODE TO SOLITUDE. 

Oh, welcome halls of silent Peace, again 

I greet your vaults, the friends of childhood's years ! 

My soul begins to feel within your still 

And holy aisles at home. My heart by wild 

And raging tempests hurled from rock to rock — 

As oft it ventured on the stormy sea 

To sail — imaginary isles of bliss 

Amidst the world's enjoyments once to find — 

My heart is soothed, to calm restored, as soon 

As Solitude with gentle silence will 

Recall my soul to dreams of future life, 

To holy aspirations freed from chains 

Which worldly friendship's false betraying bonds 

Will cast around her soaring wings. 

Indifference, selfish pride, or prudish fear 

The loving heart will never find within 

Thy sweet embrace, oh Solitude ! No words 

Of strife and jealousy resound in wild 

And angry echoes here. The soul, alike 

The calm and sleeping waters in the bay, 

Enjoys her rest. 



IRENION, 

IN SEARCH OF PEACE 

A §lSAiy)T®IF>Sll§. 

"Du suchest Frieden ? 
Friede wohnt hier ! 
Fremdling, ira Herzen 
Wohnt er Dir, 
Tief in Dir ! " 

Herder. 



|rmi0ii, in §,mu\} a! ||Mte. 



Of man's contentions weary, rise my soul 
Above to spheres of Peace, and there converse 
With pure and sainted minds, bereft of spite 
And angry, selfish passion ! 

Hail to thee, 
Oh Land, unknown to hatred, rancor, strife, 
And vain dispute ! My heart at once begins 
To feel a mild and soothing, balmy breeze. 
That calmeth down the wild and stormy waves 
By man's deceitful, whining cant aroused. 
The false religious jargon, now in use 
To wrap in graceless forms the truth of God — 
I loathe. My soul, that pants for waters fresh, 
For loving, tender, sweet and peaceful strains, 
Hath wand'red through the world to find the home 
Of Peace and Beauty. Stilly alas ! in vain ! 
I spent the years of youth in mere pursuit 
Of shadows. Brilliant, fairy-like at first, 
Bewitching, graceful, lulling into dreams 
Of bliss and Love — to me they all appeared ; 
But — phantoms all — they were dissolved in mist 
And vanished ever — when my hand — to grasp 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

Their charming form — attempted, leaving stilL 
Within the soul, the secret longing thirst 
For lasting rest. 

I've seen the world, and more 
Of earth's and nature's beauties sweet or wild, 
Than thousand others ever will behold. 
In childhood reared in sight of Alpine peak? — 

Oh proud Helvetia! glorious, thou, my land. 
My own, my fatherland ! A lay of praise 
I will yet sing to thee. Thy name is dear 
To all thy sons — the sons of Freedom's home. 
The name of Tell, of Winkelried, de Flue, 
Yet fills my heart with pride to be a child 
Of thine, my own, my beauteous Switzerland ! 
My eyes yet shed a tear of Love for thee. 

But hark I Am I the first to sing thy praise 
In strains which I not learned within thy bounds ': 
Oh no ! Thy beauties have inspired yet more 
Than one of Albion's proud and manly sons. 



Oh Byron, Scott and Ilemans I who am I 
To soar with you toward Parnassus' peak — 

To mount the steed of Helicon on high, 

And dare like you the Delian tongue to speak. 

And rise to spheres in which immortals roam ? 
May pigmies then with mighty giants race V 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE- ,)o 

May sparrows hope to reach the eagle's home, 
To soar with him in his exalted space, 
And dare the dazzling light of yonder sun to face ? 



Oh, how shall I my gratitude express 
To you — the sons of Albion's valiant sires — 

And Caledonia's worthy clans — address 
Helvetia's grateful lay ? The holy fires 

That burn within your Poets lofty souls 
Stir up but feeble flames within my own. 

Your bards whose fame hath reached the distant poles. 
Like suns arise to tell the stars : Begone 1 
For we will rule the sky, the firmament, alone. 

3. 

Ye noble bards who praised in Albion's tongue, 
In lofty strains my own, my native land. 

Who tuned your hai'ps to tell in thrilling song 
The legends old, the lore, and all the grand 

And cheering tales of my ancestors' strifes 

For Freedom's bliss — have thanks ! In tuneful lay 

Ye all have sung the brave tliat gave their lives 
To free their homes from wild oppression's sway, 
And kept their mighty foes for centuries at bay. 



And still they were not Swiss, they could not feel 
The pride, the love which all Helvetian hearts. 
From childhood's tender years, yet feel for thee — 



56 IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

Oh Fatherland I-rThy own majestic Alps, 

Thy magic scenes, thy lakes and torrent streams, 

Forever leave a stamp within the minds 

Of all th}^ children. "N'one do love as we 

Thy lofty peaks and all thy beauteous sights. 

And none do weep as we when, far from home, 

We hear an Alpine strain recall thy charms. 

The "Eanz des Vaches" resounds to none so sweet. 

And none do feel its magic spell that calls 

To mem'ry all thy beauties. 

Land, oh Land 
Of Freedom ! yea — thy sons uplift their brows 
As freemen. Freedom smiles in maiden's look — 
And Freedom ! whisper streams to banks and lakes 
To shores, and Freedom ! roars the wind thro' woods 
And glens and valleys. Freedom ! thunders still 
The avalanche that falls from mountains high. 

Let Hellas boast of old Thermopyloe ! 

Let Rome exalt her Brutus, Coesar, all 

Her heroes ! Hark ! My native land can boast 

Of Sempach, Naefels, Morat, Gmnson, still 

St. Jacob's Swiss Thermopyl<T, — of men 

Bereft of selfish aims and wish to rule 

Their fellow-freemen, Tell and Winkelried, 

And Mclchthal, d'Erlach, — hosts of heroes strove 

For naught but Freedom's boon which God bestows 

On men alone that know themselves to rule. 

And thou, de Flue, the hermit, man of Peace, 
My country's Saviour, blest forever be 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 57 

Thy mem'ry ! All the hearts of Swiss yet tlirill 
With high emotion, when their lips pronounce 
Thy hallowed name, and tears of joy will shed 
My eyes, as oft I read thy solemn words, 
The grandest lesson taught to freemen's sons, 
Thy words that saved the land from dismal breach 
Of Union. 

Fatherland, let still his words 
Be graved on all thy children's hearts, — revere 
His name, — remember when discord is near, 
His hallowed teachings still ! 

But now a cloud, 
Begins to pass before my eyes, and shades 
Of darkness throw themselves upon thy past 
And present history. 

Lo, my country's shame ! 
The sons of Freedom sell their blood for gold. 
Oh ! shame on all Helvetian youths, that lent 
Their arms to fight for foreign gain, to crush 
A monarch's people ! Shame on rulers mean, 
That brought the base, disgraceful, vile reproach 
On warriors brave: '-That he who brings not gold. 
Shall have no Swiss." 

Oh, hush, my voice ! alas ! 
The ocean's waves in vain would try to wash 
This stain away from thee, my fatherland. 

I know, 'tis true, thy bread would ill suffice 
To nourish all thy children. Thou art rich 
In beauties, poor, alas! in food for all 
That dwell within thy bounds. The stranger still 
5 



58 IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

Doth eat the morsel there— the children's bread. 
I will not grieve. I love my country, right 
Or wrong. I love her still, tho' now no more 
I live within her lofty shelt'ring walls. 

Columbia ! thou, the glorious home of all 
That find no bread in lands of want, of need, 
Columbia, thou, the rich— receive my thanks! 
With pride and joy I call myself thy own, 
Thy own adopted son. Thy stars and stripes 
I love. To king's allegiance, never swore 
My lips. I came and felt at home, and free 
As one that's born within the mountain home 
Of Freedom. Hail to thee, asylum, hail 
To all thy noble hearts that ever beat 
With love for human rights ! 

Let tyrants hate 
Thy grand success and prosp'rous march !— Let slaves 
Bewail thy vict'ries, greatness, might! But we, 
Helvetia's sons, forever love the tongue 
That spake to all the world, with thund'ring roar 
The truth: That man is free— his King. cUjyyvU ^ 
Is God,slon€. 

But here, my thoughts, away they roam 
From whence I started. Peace to search, and show 
The regions where to find it— was my theme. 

In childhood, reared in sight of Alpine peaks, 

My eyes beheld majestic mountains, lakes. 

And streams, and waterfalls. The silent tongue, 

That all thy beauties fair, oh Nature ! seem 

To speak— I heard in youth, and thought it were 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 59 

A mother's voice, that called in tender strains 
My heart to rest, and Peace and Love — but still 
I longed for one — a soul — a kindred soul. 

At last I found her — loved her — till the grave 
Bereft my eyes of all her beauteous charms. 
But now — of this no more! I sang her once 
Before.* My guardian angel, still she lives 
In shadow's silent land, and oft my soul 
"Will roam in yonder regions where she dwells, 
And there I ever breathe the air of Peace. 
Oh, Shadow-Land! I long for thee, to live 
Within thy gardens fair, and there to roam 
In fiow'ry, peaceful fields. 

For years — a few — 
I lived a seaman's life — and still I love 
The ocean's wild, majestic beauties, calms 
And furious storms, and next to mountains, hills, 
I love the sea — the sailor's wavy home. 

In tranquil nights, I often dreamt I heard 
The voice of One arise from ocean's depths 
Unknown, and speak in grand and solemn strains, 
And then in beauteous, sweet and holy lay. 
To me. My soul would swell, and seem to be 
Absorbed in God's unfathomed essence — Love. 

I 've seen the tropic sky, the southern cross, 
And all the splendor, wealth of sunny zones — 
In Rio's fairy harbor. Islands, rocks, and groves 

*See Part IV in the Ocean Waves: Consolina. 



60 IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

Of orange trees, bananas, palms — enchant 
The eye, and give romantic hues to thee, 
The seaman's safest refuge — Eio's bay. 

I've roamed alone with fair Brazilian girl, 
Amidst thy beauties. Songs of tender love 
Iler voice would sing, and lull myself to dreams. 
Her hand would press my own. Her eyes would glow 
With southern flame, and make me feel and thrill 
As one bewitched and bound by secret spells — 
In vain avoids the siren's dang'rous reign. 

Oh, sweet remembrance ! Child of fair Brazil : 
I feel my youth revive — my heart yet beat — 
As thought recalls thy lovely, glowing cheek. 
And fresh and youthful figure. Child of mirth 
And artless charm: I loved and was beloved. 
And sacred vows had bound myself to one 
That all my heart possessed. I dared not love 
Another. Souls are twined in Heaven's spheres. 
I felt my guardian angel watched o'er thee 
And me — and thus as friends we parted. Still 
I love thy sweet remembrance — blooming child 
Of fair Brazil — tlio' love I dared not thee. 

I said I loved and was beloved — but then 
With Love so pure that all unhallowed thoughts 
Had no admittance still to thee — my heart. 
It was the Love that binds the soul to soul — 
Petrarca's Love — Oh more! — angelic Love. 
But she is gone — and dwells in yonder heights, 
In regions where but sainted souls abide. 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF TEACE. CA 

Yet Love on earth doth leave a longing thirst, 
Within the soul, for higher bliss and Peace. 
The purest Love's remembrance ever leaves 
A sad, mysterious, panting wish for rest 
And jo3^s which earth can never give to man. 
The transient blis 5 of youth's illusions — Love — 
May give a moment's glance in Heaven's life ; 
But then deceptions come, and savage hands 
Destroy the fairy castles. Dream of youth : 
Oh shadow, thou, of substance still unknown 
To all — except to him that loves the God 
Of Love! 

I've seen the Rhine — the Lake Maggior' 
With all their glorious beauties. Others sang 
Their charms in better lay than mine. I will 
!N'ot here repeat what others said before. 
Thy beauties, l^ature ! — fair they are — but leave 
In human soul a thirst for beauties still 
Unseen. The soul immortal pants alone 
For everlasting gardens, fields of Peace. 
The world hath naught but glimpses, now and then, 
Of life 'midst Saints above. The flowers, leaves, 
And trees on Earth — they all in whispers seem 
To say : We grow, and bloom, and pass away. 

I've seen the world, and tasted most of joys 
Which Earth can give. Despairing once to find 
The Peace my heart desir'd — bereft of Hope 
For better days — bereft of Faith in life 
Eternal — deeming Death the end of all 
Existence — Heaven itself and Hell but dreams 



G2 IRE N I ON, IN SEARCH OF TEACE. 

Of cunning priests, — I drank the tempting cup 
Of pleasure — drank from brim to lees. 
Illusion : ruin of millions, ruin of youth ! 
To thee I yielded. — Thou hast led my feet 
To guilt and sin. Oh, blotted page of thine, 
My life ! I feel no man can. tear away 
From thee. Remembrance bitter, deep remorse : 
I feel the sting which thou hast pointed, still. 

But guilty pleasures leave but darkness, gloom. 
Within the soul, and thousands sink beneath 
The waves of deep despair to loss or doom 
Unknown. Beware, oh youth, beware, believe 
The voice of one that stood so near the verge 
Of self-destruction's darksome gulf !— The voice 
Of pleasure calls to sweet enjoyment? — l^o ! 
To Death, to Death and woe ! 

I've lived in ease 
And seen the brilliant w^orld with all its gilt, 
And show, and vain pretensions, fashions, vogue. 
And balls, and plays, and dances, orgies wild ; 
I've sunned my eye in beauty's tender smile, 
The fairest, loveliest hands have pressed my own, 
And rosy lips have whispered talcs of love 
To mo— of Love ? Oli no ! Tlie sacred flame 
Tlath naught to do with guilty passion's fire. 



Oh Paris, hell of sin, corrn])tion, crime, 
Debauch and guilt ! oli, woo to him that comes 
Unarmed within thy grasp, and falls a prey 
Of thine! 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 63 

Oh, sad experience, lesson taught 
To hearts that pant for Peace ! The world hath none 
That lasts. Oh, where, oh Peace is thine abode. 

II. 

I lived on mountain high alone — away 

From all temptation, brooding o 'er my past 

And inconsistent life. I still was young. 

My guardian angel was no more on earth. 

Alone in all the wide and peaceless world 

I stood. An active life till then had been 

My past. At last I hailed the land of thought — 

Began to study past and present things. 

Of boyhood's years recalling all the tales 

Of Greece and Kome to mem'ry — I resolved 

To live in books, and drive away the gloom 

That haunted still my soul. But soon my thoughts 

Began to turn themselves to holier things. 

I read the Word of Life, the Word of God ; 

My soul began to breathe in purer spheres. 

I thought I heard a secret voice proclaim 

That Peace is found within the Holy Book. 

In childhood taught to read the Sacred Word, 
My infant heart was ever touched with deep, 
And solemn, awful fear, as oft I read 
The law — Jehovah thundered down on man 
From Sinai's mount. — The God of wrath appeared 
To me the fearful Judge, that dooms to woe 
Eternal — more than all the host of Saints 
Would ever number. — Awful God ! I feared 



64 IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

His name, but could not love His angry face. 
I felt I could not live with holy mind. 
I dared not breathe, for fear that He, in wrath, 
Would crush the helpless worm that creeps 
In dust. I heard His voice in thunderstorms, 
And trembling, feared annihilation, woe 
And woe forever. — Conscience then would tell 
My soul of thousand sins committed — faults 
That awful doom deserved. — The preachers — some- 
Would paint the gulf of endless, blazing fire — 
The grinning face of Satan, who defies 
The strength of Him to save His own from Hell. 
'Tis true, sometimes, they spoke of one they called 
The Son of God, the Saviour, Jesus Christ, 
The Man; Jehovah sent to live a pure 
And sinless life — to show his kind that sin 
Is crushed by stoic efibrt, strength of will. 
And manly strife with passion. Others called 
This all a hellish lie which brought to err 
Misguided souls. They said that man is born 
In sin, without the strength to win his own 
Salvation. Woe to him that dares to think. 
By holy works, to gain reward and Heav'n! 
A sainted life is spent in vain — without 
An orthodox consistent creed — and damned 
Arc all that have no such belief! 

I was 
A child. I could not then discern the trutli 
Amidst dispute. And still an inward voice. 
In whispers told my infant car, to give 
My heart to Him, that came to save from woe, 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. G5 

And awful loss, a wicked world. — I lieard 

It once on Christmas Eve.— I dreamt I saw 

Around my couch, a thousand angels bright — 

That sang in sweet celestial tone, the words: 

" To God on high — let glory be, and Peace 

On earth — good will to men ! " And then 

I saw Jehovah's Cherub standing nigh, 

Without the flaming sword in hand, that drove 

From Eden's blissful fields, the first of men 

And women — no! He raised his hand to point 

To me, a lofty Cross, — and far above. 

In brilliant letters, shone the words: " Thy God 

Is Love ! " Archangels stood around the sign 

Of man's Redemption. Hymns of praise they sang — 

Majestic, hallowed strains resounded — all 

To glorify — exalt Elohim's name 

And mercy. 

l^ever could my heart forget 
This dream. I was a child, but still I felt 
As if a ray of Heaven's sun had cast 
Its light upon my soul, and — now, as years 
Had swept away the morning bloom of youth — 
As all the world's enjoyments sweet had tried 
In vain to quench the thirst for Peace — I now 
Recalled from mem 'ry 's distant fields the dream 
Of youth. Angelic whispers gently seemed 
At once to reach my ear. My soul appeared 
To rise from all the mist of guilt impure, 
And swell and soar to spheres of holy life. 
A gentle shower seemed to quench the flame 
Of passions wild — and words of Grace and Peace — 



QQ IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

Methought — I heard in soft melodious tones 
Within my soul's unfathomed depths resound. 
Oh, dawning day of new but hidden life, 
With holy thrill, emotions sweet, I think 
Of thee ! My soul— like yonder cloudless sky 
Became serene. My heart a temple seemed 
To be — from whence arose but grateful hymns 
And halleluiahs — Him to praise that came, 
From God's eternal throne, to plant on earth 
The seeds of holy Peace. Oh, glorious day ! 
I cherish — love thy sweet remembrance still. 

'Tis true that since the clouds would oft again 
Obscure the sky, and oft would passions roar 
And storm and thunder — flash as if to bring 
My soul to loss eternal. Darkness, gloom 
Would often throw their mournful shades on all 
My thoughts, and threaten me with woeful doom. 
But storms in nature ever drive away 
Oppressive vapors, angry mournful clouds. 
The flashing lightning purifies the air— 
And then the sky becomes again serene, 
And gentle zephyrs whisper through the leaves, 
That glitter all in evening's sunbeam's gold. 
And plants, and trees, and men, and all appear 
To breathe the fresh'niug air to calm restored. 
Thus will the soul of man that here on earth 
Begins to walk the heavenly pilgrim's path, 
Thus will she have to pass thro' trials, storms. 
And constant war with Self — her restless foe. 
But when the sky appears forever veiled. 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 67 

And dark despair is threat'ning to destroy 
The last, the dying spark of Hope— and when 
From depths of woe doth rise the cry: " Oh God 
Oh why didst thou forsake Thy own ?" Oh then 
A ray of light celestial pierces through 
The clouds at once and drives despair away — 
And then again appears the glorious sun, 
The new Evangel's sun : The God of Love. 

III. 

But now remembrance, dear and bitter still, 

Eecalls from mem'ry's stores an image pure, 

A noble, tender, pious, lofty soul. 

Oh woman ! * thou that hast for years bestowed. 

With mother's love, on me thy anxious care. 

Although I am no child of thine, I feel 

For tlaee a filial love I could not grant 

Alas ! — to her, my mother, — thou didst teach 

My heart to feel a sweet dependence, trust 

In age mature and counsel wise. Thy love — 

A mother's faithful love — hath guided me 

For years. Thy gen'rous hand hath showered me 

With favors, acts of kindness, countless boons. 

I owe it most to thee what human lore 

In sacred things hath taught my mind. To thee 



* This passage refers to a lady belonging to a noble family in Neuchatel, 
to wliosc patronage the writer is indebted for the greatest part of his liberal 
education. As she is still living, he withholds her name from publication. 
All his acquaintances in Neuchatel and Geneva will know to whom allusion 
is made. 



68 IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

I owe the host of friends that thought to see 

In me a future light to shine within 

The Church, the friends that looked on me with hopes 

Of high degree, that sacrificed with joy 

Their earthly goods to bring me up in lore 

Of things divine. 

Alas ! They were deceived — 
They thought that learning, wisdom, might he all 
I needed — thought I had the inward life 
Of faithful Christian souls. — I had a germ 
Within my heart, a pushing root that first 
"With quickness grew to hopeful sapling's height. 
But then the storms of passion came and broke 
The feeble stem, and razed it to the ground. 
Until no outward mark of life would show 
Itself — until the root appeared to be 
Extracted, lost forever. Thou alone. 
Oh woman, mother, faithful, still in Hope 
For me, oh thou alone hast never ceased 
To trust in IIiM that bent thy heart to love 
The lonely stranger. Pangs, deception, grief. 
In vain assailed thy heart to take from me 
Thy own aftection. Dearest mother — more 
Beloved than slie whom nature made me call 
My parent, — thou hast suftered, wept and prayed 
For me, uui^ratcful child. Alas! the stinc; 
Of deep remorse will make my heart yet bleed, 
And often now my cheek will blush with shame. 
As thought recalls my errors, roamings wild. 
My own ungrateful acts and failings all 
And disobedience — foul reward of Love 



I REN ION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. ()U 

Bestowed, misplaced, on me ! Oh, why didst thou 
Adopt from thoiisaiuls him that was to thee 
A stranger — why dist thou not turn away 
The vile ungrateful serpent? 

Serpent ? no ! 
I've failed to crown thy hopes, but then my love 
For thee hath never ceased. I thought I had 
The inward call to go and preach the Word 
Of God. But when my mind had passed thro' years 
Of study, toil and labor — when the lore 
Of men had thrown the veil of human strife 
And dry discussion o'er the spark of life 
Interior — when all was dark, uncertain 
Within my mind — oh ! then I thought it wrong 
To play the part of those that cheat themselves 
And others, — those that will yet preach the Word 
For gold. — I could not then dissemble, tell 
To others things I scorned within my mind. 
Forgive, my friends, my mother dear, forgive ! 
I was sincere, and could not play the part 
Of actors, whining, cheating, dressed in gowns — 
The Christian pulpit's sad disgrace. 



Vox CLAMANTIS IN DeSERTO ! 

And thou. 
Oh youth, that, like myself, dost wish to find 
The path of Truth and Peace, oh, hearken thou 
To me ! Dost thou believe the Gospel's lore ? 
Hast thou the germ of life divine within 
Thv soul ? Beware of reason 's cunniuir skill 



70 IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

To lead thy mind to^tortuous ways of men 

That twist and twine their own deluded thoughts 

Around the simple truths of God ! Beware 

Of those that think their narrow minds can hold 

Of God's immense, unfathomed wisdom, all 

Its boundless depths, — of men who teach that God 

Will judge as narrow-hearted bigots deem, — 

Of men that force the Love of God within 

A selfish circle — damning all that go 

An inch, a hair's extensive breadth without 

Its limits ! 

Rome, Geneva, "Wittenberg, 
And Oxford : curse on all your splitting points 
That brought disgrace upon the Christian name ! 
Division, hatred, strife, the lore of Hell, 
Ye preach and teach, and then, to crown your work, 
Ye swindle man yet out of Heaven's life 
That here on earth in Peace he might enjoy. 

I wish my voice with thund'ring roar could warn 
The thousand simple, hopeful youths, that are 
Obliged to pass thro' all your desert plains, 
And dry, dogmatic, hermeneutic woods. 
And isagogic, exegetic swamps; 
I wish my. voice could roar to all: Beware ! 
Lest all the childly Faith that lights your souls, 
May lose its pure and brilliant flame, and then 
Forever leave your minds in darkness deep, 
Or mist of doubt! Oh, watch the hidden flame 
That burns with Love for God and fellow-men, 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 71 

For all your brethren ! Love, and Love alone, 
Reveals the Truth immortal. Brother, friend ! 
Believe the words of one who wand'rcd through 
The thankless, speculative, arid wilds 
Of human wisdom — foolish lore to God ! 



I' ve toiled on all the systems, old and new, 
That will pretend to cut the Gordian knot, 
Which man's existence ever placed before 
Investigating reason. Thousands tried in vain 
To solve the problem, puzzling still to all. 
That will explain by logic's cunning ways 
And windings, nature's hidden essence — cause 
Of all existence — God. 

I 've searched in all 
The schools of Greece and Eome, to find a sword 
To cut the mentioned knot. Pythagoras, 
And Thales, Pyrrhon, Zeno, Epicure, 
And Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, 
And Seneca, and Lucian, all the crowd 
Of guessing wand'rers through the swamps of thought 
And systems, where materialistic filth, 
And sceptic thorns, idealistic lights 
That dance on marshy grounds — to cheat — mislead 
The weary traveling mind : — I've tried you all; 
'Tis true I shall not scorn your classic lore. 
That often would attract and lull my soul 
To dreams of peaceful life, beyond the banks 
Of Lethe's stream, amidst Elysian groves, 
Within the fields where heroes bear no more 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

Their trophies, * where the Gods and men in Peace 

Abide. I often wished, as once the bard,t 

The noblest German bard did long, to live 

Again beneath the rule of Jove — to breathe 

The sweet perfume in Aphrodite's bow'rs, 

And, crowned with roses, drink the Cyprian wine. 

And sing the lays, Anacreon composed. 

In beauty 's arms 'midst sensual raptures lost. 

But soon I til ought a higher bliss to find 

In Plato's lofty aspirations, where 

The soul is cleansed from filth and low desire. 

And rises high to regions where abides 

The Kalon pure, the Logos — God himself. 

Admiring Stoic virtue, selfish pride, 

I scorned with Brutus, Seneca, the vain 

Ephem'ral joys of pleasure. Proud in mind 

I would for months with haughty sneer, contempt. 

Behold the foolish crowd around me — race 

As children after empty bubbles, blown 

By foaming water. Still the manly pride 

Of self-conceited virtue could not quench 

The inward thirst for Peace. 

I've searched the deep, 
Phantastic, Indian Yedas — pillars great 
Of human speculation. Thoughts profound 



* 'A^^ h yij rb Tpoiralnv, h 'X6ov yap eipi/i'tj. 

Luciiin, Diiil. :M<.vt. 
I Schiller in Ins Poem "Tlie Gods of Greece." 

"Da ihr noch die schone Welt regiertet," u. s. w. 

'•"When ye still the beauteous world were ruling," &c. 



IRE N ION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

I read of Brahma, Vislinou, Shiva — how 
The world, and man, and all, in them exist- 
That Brahma's soul alone is all the cause 
Of life — the universal soul — and hence 
That man himself is God. 

Methought I heard 
The old alluring serpent's voice that brought 
To fall the first of men. 

I found that most 
Of human systems ever have recalled 
The first, the cunning tale that once was heard 
In Eden's blissful groves. I found that Greece 
And Rome in systems tell the same again 
And o'er again : "The world is God, and man 
Is God." The hylozoic tale of yore 
Which Thales told the whole Ionian school. 
The Eleatics all — Xenophanes, 
Melissos, Zeno, old Parmenides, 
And even Plato's academic dreams. 
They all repeat the same infernal strain, 
That modern time again hath brought before 
The minds of thinking men. " 'Tis nothing new 
Beneath the sun." The pantheistic song — 
As old as man himself — hath never ceased 
To lull deluded souls to dreams of Hell. 
The Gnostic schools, Plotinus, Erigen, 
And more than one of mediaeval times, 
Almaric, Bruno, then at last the Jew — 
Spinoza — all they have proclaimed and taught 
"What Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, Feuerbach — 
6 



74 IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

And hosts of modern speculators tell 
Of substance, mind, conception, being, self, 
l^ot-self, and absolute and relative. 
And essence, subjective and objective. 

Oh, tedious metaphysic jargon now 

By schoolmen hurled— with grave and solemn face. 

And vain, pedantic airs— from modern halls 

Of wisdom, ex ca^Aec^ra— threat'ning all 

The sacred ties with dissolution— hence 

Begone ! 

I've sought for years my Peace in vain 

In these delusive labyrinths of thought, 

And have pursued the brilliant shadows all 
That self-absorption seemed to promise me. 

I've dreamt of boundless space with God in all— 
Of good and evil blending all in one 

Identic cause. I tried to think that good 
And evil, right and wrong, and truth and lie, 
But mere illusions were without a sound 
Consistent reason— how they might exist 
Since all proceed from one identic cause. 
Alas ! In vain I tried to hush the voice 
That spake to me from depths within the heart. 
Denouncing reason 's bold and wild attempts 
To blend in (tOD the pure, the foul, the right 
And wrong. Oh, days of mist and darkness gone 
Oh, long and weary wand'ring roamed in vain— 
And still no Peace ! 



IRENION, IN SExVRCH OF TEACE. 7-> 

IV. 

At last I deemed it best 
To throw aside the veil of human thought, 
And thus to blind obedient faith submit 
My soul. Geneva called with rigid, stern. 
Commanding voice my mind to take — believe 
The "Word of God,, without the slightest, least 
Objection. Inward life — she said — was naught 
But vain delusion, heresy, and crime, 
Without a strong consistent Faith in all 
The words and letters, points of Holy Writ. 
Eternal woe awaits the soul that dares 
To doubt or search a hidden sense beneath 
The letter. 

Thou, oh, Calvin ! man of points. 
That hast reduced to geometric rules 
The Christian's own belief, — oh man, who think'st 
That God predestined thousands, millions, more 
Than seven-eights of men, to Hell and woe — 
Eternal, — rigid man of zealous fire : 
What mischief, dark confusion, thou hast brought 
Upon my soul with all thy terms and points. 
And nice distinctions ! Thou — the first — hast thrown 
The clouds of doubt around the hidden spark 
Of life within. — Thy awful God appeared 
To me the stern relentless Judge that dooms 
To everlasting torment all that were 
Condemned before the world's creation. Men 
Of worth or virtue, men of noble heart. 
But still without a well-defined belief — 



'6 IRENIOxN, IN SEAKCH OF PEACE. 

Should sink to loss eternal — thou hast taught 
My youthful mind. Still I thought it hard 
To yield to all thy reasons — stroved with thee. 
And Merle d'Aubigne's school, until at last 
I deemed it vain to fight with giants strong, 
And humbly I submitted. 

Woeful day ! 
My Faith became an axiomatic rule. 
By geometric reasons proved — defined. 
Keligious life began to be a mere 
Exertion intellectual, search of mind, 
And dryness cast its veil around my heart. 

But soon the tempter's voice again I heard, 
That spake to me in strong convincing tone : 
If God hath all ordained before the w^orld 
Existed — why wilt thou, against Ilis arm. 
Thy own yet dare to raise, — if God alone 
Can give to thee the force to w^ill — to work, — 
If all depends upon His will — if thou 
To save thyself hast neither strength nor wish — 
If thou art naught but mere machine, a tool — 
What ails thy soul, if thou art doomed to loss — 
To strife, against thy own desire and lust? 
Dost thou not feel disposed to walk the path 
Of virtue? AVhy? it will not be thy fault. 
If lie that gave the life to thee — bestowed 
Not strength of will on thee — art thou to blame ? 
If He predestined thee to loss and woe — 
Wilt thou in weakness strive against Ilis might, 
His law, His own eternal will, decree? 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 77 

If God is Love alone to those elect — 

If Christ hath shed His blood alone for few— 

If all that never lived a Christian life — 

Shall earn eternal pangs and torments — fire — 

The worms that had no strength to rise above 

The dust to free themselves from passion's chains 

Which held them creeping deep in foulest mire, — 

If cursed they be forever — then in vain 

Is all thy toil and study past. Thy doom 

Was sealed before thy life began. And now, 

Instead of mourning this thy fate beyond 

The grave — instead of brooding o'er Death 

To come — enjoy the days of life on earth, 

As oft a chance presents itself to thee ! 

And then the tempting voice would, all at once, 

Assume a sweet, voluptuous, charming tone. 

And lull in soft Anacreontic lay 

My soul to sleep, and soon again I deemed 

That Faith and Hope in life eternal were 

But mere illusions — w^liims. Disgust with toil 

In lore divine would follow. Still the links 

Of friendship kept my heart subdued. I feared 

The name — deceiver. Wildly raved my mind, 

As oft I heard from men of Calvin's faith 

The stern and crushing tongue that damns to flames 

Forever all the God of wrath rejects. 

Geneva : though I love thy name, thy walls. 
Thy lake and beauties all so sweet, — thy lore 
Hath hurled my soul to ruin's verge. 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

Yet there, 
Amongst tliy own, I found a friend so dear 
To me, that still his name recalls my heart 
To sweet emotions. Tears yet will refresh 
My soul, as oft I think of thee, oh man 
Of Peace and Love, oh GtAUSSEn, gentle, kind 
And gen'rous friend! Thy mild Johannic smile 
Hath often swept away the mist of doubt 
And unbelief that would surround my soul ! 
With loving patience thou hast treated me — 
The wild, the roving youth. Thy glance of Love 
Celestial, often called my heart to Peace. 
In days of dryness, gloom, despair, I went 
To thee — and thou, as once the loving John, 
AVith tender voice recalled the erring youth 
To duty's path, oh thou, beloved man 
Of God, hast never ceased to help — uplift 
The fallen child. 

May God bestow on thee 
The brilliant crown, the morning star, the palm 
Of Peace, the hidden manna, when before 
His throne, a hallowed saint in glory, thou, — 
The faithful, shalt appear. The teachers there 
In brightness shine, and those that turn the young, 
The old, to righteousness, they shall as stars 
Forever beam in radiant splendor. Thou, 
Oh faithful servant ! wilt receive thy own 
Reward — inherit joy forevermore. 

I left Geneva's strict and narrow school — 
With German Exegesis stuffed my brain, 



IRENION, IN SEARCH. OF PEACE. 79 

"With Yatke, Hengstenberg, and Paulus, Strauss, 

And Rosenmiiller, Zeller, Tholuck, Daub, 

And Baur, and Schneckenburger — all the tribe 

Of commentators writing folios learn'd 

On meanings, words and points, and dashes, nouiis, 

And verbs, and — often worthless, empty cant. 

Oh days of dryness, labor past ! and still 
^o Peace. 

But thou, N"eander, father, more 
Than all to be revered, oh Prophet, thou — 
Of glorious days to come — I how to thee — 
I bless thy name, oh man of Love I I learned 
From thee, what Holy "Writ hath truly taught : 
To see, that God is Love, and Christ alone. 
The Head of Heaven's Church, that Peace on earth 
The Gospel brings, and sainted Love shall rule. 

Oh there I caught a ray of light — a glimpse 
Of Truth. My longing soul pursued for years 
The path which thou hast traced, and then at last 
I found, I reached the land of Peace and Love. 
An inward life began within my soul 
And drove and banished all the clouds of doubt 

I was so poor, I had to beg for work — 

For bread — and though, by nature proud, I am 

N"ot now ashamed to tell, that oft I've felt 

The pangs of hunger, want and sufF 'rings great. 

T see it now, my God ! that Thou wouldst bring 

My haughty heart to trust alone in Thee. 



80 IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

In rage I oft rebelled against the rod, 

The iron rod that Thou hast used to crush 

My pride and vanity ; but now I bless 

Thy Love which brought me down to dust, thy love 

Which made me yield at last to Thee, which taught 

My selfish mind that still the human heart, 

'Midst high and low, and rich and poor, will beat 

"With sympathy for others' woe. I've seen 

The tear of kindness fall, the hand to help 

Disposed, in gorgeous halls as w^ell as there, 

Within the poorest hut. Not all the rich 

Are selfish. 'No ! Beneath a velvet cloak 

A noble, gen'rous heart may beat as well 

As 'neath the humble serge; and now my heart 

No more with bitterness doth envy those 

That, blest with worldly goods on earth below, 

Enjoy their transient privileges here. 

I have reviewed within my mind the lore. 
The teachings all I once received, and years 
Of slow digestion have dissolved the food, 
The gorgeous fare that men had crammed into 
My mind before, the fare which now my soul 
Rejects, because it brought disgust with things 
Divine upon her. Forms, and rites, and — points 
And old dogmatic stubbles dry, no more 
A loveless, desert, arid sight shall give 
To fields of Peace within my soul. The air 
Of Death that often breathes in temples, called 
The Homes of Christian souls on earth — but more 
The halls of strife, dispute, than Peace — the air 
Of selfish bigotry no more I will 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 81 

Inhale. I feel the want of help and strength 
Which man can never give, the want of life, 
Of inward silent life with God alone. 
I'll worship there before the hidden shrine, 
And thence behold the face, the glorious face 
Of Him who left His image there unveiled 
To those that love their God. 

Oh Land of Peace, 
Oh Land of Love, what bliss is found within 
Thy regions ! He, my God, is there. His sky 
Serene and pure, reflects itself in souls 
Immortal. Voices, gently ling'ring — sweet — 
Resound in glorious anthems. Hymns are sung 
By Cherubim and Seraphim in high, 
Majestic, still in peaceful tones; and there 
The soul forever thrills in raptures deep. 
She feels as if — on heavenly wings — she were 
Transported high to yon eternal Home, 
Where doubts and fears will cast no more their veil 
Around her. All mysterious problems seem 
Explained in God's immortal, hallowed Love. 
A spring of everlasting freshness cools 
The panting soul, and there she seems to dwell 
Beneath the shades of trees, whose branches, leaves. 
Have never felt the frosty dead'ning blasts 
Of winds autumnal. Gentle zephyrs will 
Forever whisper strains of Peace and Love 
Thro' groves and gardens, fields of rest ; and all 
That dwell in yonder regions, ever greet 
The new arriving brother with the smile 
Of tender Love. 



82 IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 

Oh man, oh why wilt thou 
!N"ot come — enjoy the blessed Peace that still 
In inward life is hidden ? "Why dost thou 
Prefer to breathe the venomed air of strife ? 
Oh come — behold, the God of Love will there 
Refresh thy soul in living waters pure ! 

And now, my brethren, sisters, all that search 
The inward Peace with God and fellow-men — 
Ye all that pant for heavenly rest on earth — 
Ye all that wish to taste of fruits divine 
And drink the living water — come, oh come 
To springs that flow to life eternal, quench 
The flame of selfish lust and wild desire. 
And yield to Him who calls in accents mild 
Your hearts to love your brother, poor or rich, 
To share your daily bread with those in need, 
To treat with gentle kindness all that dwell 
Within your reach, to weep with him that weeps, 
To find your joy in others' joy, to help — 
Uplift the fallen one, to tend your hand 
In kind support to him that walks alone 
With weak and weary foot on Heaven's path ! 
Oh ! thousands might be saved from guilt and woe, 
If led by friendly hands, if cheered by mild 
And tender words on virtue's narrow road. 

Believe not thee, my brother, called to judge 
And hurl to loss eternal all who pass 
!N'ot strictly through the same, the trodden plains, 
Which thou hast crossed. The plans of God may be 



IRENION, IN SEARCH OF PEACE. 83 

Not all revealed to thee. His ways and ends 
May lead to issues manifold, unknown. 
Thy mind in vain would try to hold within 
Its bounds the whole immortal truth of God. 
To man enough of Truth is there revealed 
To lead his mind, his heart, his soul to Him 
Whom John, the loving, tender John hath called 
The God of Love, in Christ revealed. 

To thee. 
Beloved John ! disciple dear to Him that brought 
On earth the glorious Gospel's Peace, oh thanks 
To thee, to thine inspired and heavenly words, 
I owe my last, my only lore — that life 
In God — is Love, that he who loves, hath God 
In him. 

Oh, may my lays forevermore 
Repeat — announce to all the world again — 
A thousand times again that God is Love ! 



My readers — fare ye well ! my task is done. 

The land of Peace is found alone within 

The hidden Life with God. Oh, come and live 

And love, and then the heavenly sun will shine 

Within your souls, and drive the mist of doubt, 

The dead'ning gloom of darkness, soon away, 

And halleluiahs will resound in all 

Your liearts and rise to God's eternal throne ; — 

And then, as brethren all, in links of Love 

United, all ye shall enjoy the bliss 

That Peace divine on earth on man bestows I 



84 alone: 



ALONE! 

Tke following lines were published nearly a year before tlie "Ode to Soli- 
tude." They appear in this collection, merely because they seem to have 
called forth the lovely eflfusion, which was addressed to the Author, through 
one of the Pittsburgh papers, and which, also, is inserted in this volume. 
Who this "Eulalie" may be, the author has never been able to discover. 
He seizes this opportunity to express his feelings of sincere gratitude to the 
writer for her kind and gentle adA'ice. 

Once upou an evening musing, 

'Midst the graves I walked along, 
Groves around me were diffusing 

Fragrance sweet. In lovely song 
Birds yet warbling through the bowers, 

Gently hopped from branch to branch ; 
Insects humming 'midst the flowers, 

Sought in dew their thirst to quench. 

I walked alone, and thinking 

Of those that slept beneath. 
The sun was slowly sinking. 

And all began to breathe 
The air of calm, bestowing 

On nature silent rest ; 
But gloom was overflowing 

My soul with grief oppressed. 

I f^lt alone and weary, 

A life that called to roam — 
To drag on paths so dreary 

My feet without a home. 



alone: 85 



Appeared to me forever, 

A bui\len hard to bear ; 
I thought the earth would never 

To me its joys repair. 

Repair ? Oh, sad remembrance ! 

A home I never knew ; 
My days from childhood's entrance 

Away in sorrow flew ; 
I was forsaken — lonely, 

A stranger midst my own. 
The fields and forests only 

To me have pleasure shown. 



[From tlio Pittsbur^li Union.] 

TO THE HERMIT OF ST. EIRENE, 



' The fields and forests only 
To me have pleasure shown.' 



jSTay, then, life is not all dreary, 

Some joy is lingering still ; 
Some flowers yet bloom thy path to cheer 

Whilst toiling up life's hill. 

Though weary oft thy feet may grow, 

Yet Hope will lead thee on ; 
Her smiles will cheer thy drooping heart 

Until the goal is won. 



86 ALONE! 

Pause not — thougli siren tongue may woo, 

They win but to destroy — 
Would'st gain ambition's height? Ah ! Fame 

Is but a gilded toy ! 

Earth's joys ? nay, trust not thou to them, 

However bright they seem, 
Else in thy grasp thou'lt find them fade 

And perish as a dream ! 

Tell me, has Love, with magic power. 
Found shrine within thy breast, 

And stirred the waters of thy soul 
Which nevermore may rest ? 

Look up beyond this world of care. 
Though thou dost lonely roam ; 

Look up ! for fadeless are the joys 
That wait thee in thy home ! 



EULALTE. 



PiTTSBUEQH, April 20, 1856. 



THE HERMIT'S ANSWER TO EULALIE. 

EuLALiE : forever thy beautiful, cheering, 

Afibctionate lines. 
Shall render thy name to my mem'ry endearing; 

Thy image entwines 
Itself in my dreams, tho' I never was deeming, 

And never did know, 



ALONE! 87 

That there should be one that, unknown, is yet seeming 

To care for my woe. 
Oh I thou dost not think of the tear that was falling 

As reading thy lay — 
Methought I heard whispers angelic, recalling 

My spirit away — 
Away from the longings for earthy affection — 

For one that would love 
The pilgrim so lonely. Oh thanks ! The direction 

Thou showest — above 
The world, for the flowers to seek that are blooming 

Eternally there — 
I know it, and ever as sadness, beglooming 

My soul with despair. 
Is hurling my thoughts to the shadowy regions 

Of darkness and grief; 
Oh, then — I will look to the Ceoss, on which legions 

Of souls, their relief 
Forever have found — to the Cross, the redeeming, 

The symbol of Love. 
And then, oh, my friend, in an instant is seeming 

To come from above, 
A ray of the light, that reveals to my longing 

And suffering heart. 
The Home which I thought to the earth was belonging. 

Which once would impart 
Such bliss as I never had known, but in sorrow 

In vain I have sought. 
I hoped for it long — and to-day — no ! to-morrow 

I'll find it— I thought. 
And said so for years every morn ; but I waited — 



88 ALONE! 

Continued to roam — 
But never, me never a place hatli invited 
To call it my home. 

"Where is the flower, that blooming for me, 

Here on my path, shall yet cheer 
Me, who wand 'red thro' lands? On the sea 

Yainly my ship I did steer. 
Hoping to find yet the harbor of rest. 

Given to thousands in Love. 
Where is the home by my soul to be blest, 

Where — but in Heaven above ? 

There is a flower yet blooming for me. 

One that was taken away. 
Hence to a world in which never she'll be 

Fading and sink to decay. 
There is an ailgel that whispers at night, 

When in my sadness alone, 
Weary, I'm sighing — an angel so bright. 

Whispers in heavenly tone : 

""Wanderer lonely: oh, lift up thy eyes! 

Here, my beloved, I'm near; 
Soon, oh ! shalt thou to the regions arise. 

Where will be dried every tear. 
Soon will the pangs of thy life be at end. 

Soon — oh, rejoice ! at my side 
Thou, my beloved, forever shall stand — 

Here in my Heaven abide." 



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